


Sharing Solitude

by NachoSammich



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Time After Time alt timeline, chase stop pretending to be wise you make no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoSammich/pseuds/NachoSammich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief interlude in the temple garden, before things got tough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> I was writing a thing based in the Time After Time alternate timeline (the one where Chase is good) but this was the only part I really liked so I'm just gonna put it here by itself.

It's been three weeks since Raimundo trapped Wuya with the new puzzle box, and he still feels like he's walking on a very wobbly tightrope. His friends have all accepted him back, but he hasn't missed the furtive glances between them or the hushed conversations that stop when he walks into the room. The elder monks seem to be giving him a wider berth too; he doesn't see nearly as many of them around when he's by himself now.

He tries not to get upset about it - the paranoia's kind of justified, after all - but it still eats at him. Come on, he fixed the problem, he apologized, he turned down the obligatory promotion in favor of earning it on his own terms, and he's even ditched his old hoodie and sweats for some new duds, just to put the whole Heylin thing behind him. What more does anyone want from him?

Right now, he's hanging out in the temple garden. Just chilling by himself, like you do. Totally not avoiding anyone. The other Chosen Ones are busy doing fancy apprentice-level training with Master Fung, so it's not like he'd be much use there.

Besides, he's starting to get sick of Omi's bragging.

"Shirking your duties?"

"Gyah!" Rai jumps, accidentally knocking his head on the tree trunk he's leaning against. He hears soft laughter and looks up to see Chase Young standing off to his left.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you, young monk."

"Startle? Who's startled? I'm not startled." Raimundo rubs his head and settles back against the tree - gingerly, because his head is a little sore. "And I'm not shirking nothing. I'm on my break."

"I see." Chase doesn't move, just stands next to the tree, watching him with eyes that are maybe just a little too understanding. His shirt matches the color of the sky; from where Rai's sitting, he looks like he's just a floating head and dark blue pants.

"What're you doing here anyway?" Rai plucks up a blade of grass and begins to fiddle with it, tying loose knots in a kind-of-maybe-could-be-a pattern. "You don't really strike me as the 'tree-hugger' type." More the "sits-around-and-reads-scrolls-in-some-dark-corner -of-the-temple" type. With a dash of the "actually-spars-for-fun-seriously-who-even- _does_ -th at" type.

"I often come here when I need to be alone." Chase braces one hand against the tree and gazes straight ahead, at the rocky creek that passes through this part of the temple garden.

"And, what, nobody knew where I was and you figured I'd be here?"

"No. I came here to clear my mind of troubling thoughts, and you're in my spot."

"Oh." Rai clears his throat and looks down at the ground. Awkward. "Um. You want me to leave?"

"That won't be necessary." A pair of feet enters his peripheral vision. "Move over?"

Startled, Rai obliges, shuffling to his right a bit so there's enough room for Chase to settle onto the ground next to him. "I thought you wanted to be alone."

Chase shrugs, kicking his shoes and socks off, tucking his feet up into a lotus position. "There is no shame in sharing solitude."

Rai tries to make sense of that for a minute, and then decides to just let it go. He can never understand these guys when they're trying to be all wise and mystical.


End file.
